


Convalescence of the Golden Witch

by noetherSA



Series: Umineko One Shots [2]
Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Angst/Comfort, Gen, Having a therapy session in your head with your OCs, Kumasawa knowing how to talk to Yasu was definitely a high point in episode 7, spoilers through episode 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noetherSA/pseuds/noetherSA
Summary: Welcome to- oh, you are in a bad way, my child. I can tell just by looking at you. Is some fey witch giving you trouble again? Come, I will teach you some new spells that will keep you safe.The difficulty is gentle. You’ve been through a lot and deserve some rest.Shannon mysteriously falls ill following Kanon's date with Jessica. Can Kumasawa's advice get her back on her feet?
Series: Umineko One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892401
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Convalescence of the Golden Witch

Kanon cursed the summer heat as he lifted the shutter on the garden shed. He cursed the hedge clippers for hiding just out of reach on the tool rack. And he cursed Shannon, for calling out sick for the last week and sticking him with all this infernal yard work. Of course, he'd be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about her. Shannon barely ever missed work usually, so she must be terribly ill to be gone this long. Maybe that horrible witch had cast a spell on her. 

_ No _ , Kanon thought,  _ that’s probably exactly what happened.  _ He grabbed a stepladder and took down the clippers.  _ That witch mustn’t have been finished tormenting us after we smashed her brooch _ . Beatrice was a capricious and cruel master, and it certainly wouldn’t be above her to toy with uncooperative furniture like this. It was strange though- usually it seemed like Beatrice was on suspiciously good terms with Shannon. And thinking back, Kanon  _ was _ the one who had actually smashed the brooch... 

_ She must be punishing me by hurting the people I love,  _ Kanon decided. He carried the ladder and shears out to the hedge and set to work. That must’ve been it. This is revenge for pushing Mistress Jessica away last week and refusing to be Beatrice’s plaything. The ladder wobbled and sunk into the earth slightly as he climbed up it, shears in hand, to prune an aberrant sprig reaching out from the contour of the hedge. Kanon’s heart still ached from that night. It hurt to refuse her affection, and not being able to offer a satisfying explanation made everything worse. The Mistress seldom concerned herself with matters of class, after all. And frankly, some of the things she had said before they parted ways made him think she might’ve been on to him, if only a little.

“So you’ve figured it out, have you?” A cloud of golden butterflies materialized in the garden, and formed into the shape of Beatrice herself, perched atop the hedge in a slightly less than dignified way. “Through my curse, Shannon will remain bedridden until you grovel at my feet and swear your fealty to me forevermore! I imagine a furniture like you would make an excellent card table while I play Baccarat with Ladies Bernkastel and Lambdadelta sometime!” She cackled maniacally and took a drag from her pipe.

“Leave me alone,” Kanon muttered, “Didn’t I tell you I’ve had enough of your games?” He reached out with the clippers to trim the offending branch. The ladder swayed uncertainly. 

“You have indeed,” Beatrice confirmed, “But I am by no means bound to your commands, fuuuurniture.”

“I am not  _ your _ furniture, witch.” He spotted another twig that required his attention, but he had to get into an awkward position to reach it. 

“Hmph,” Beatrice scoffed. 

She waved her pipe with a lighting-fast flick of her wrist, and the ladder sprung to life. It bucked suddenly, catching Kanon off-guard. Before he had time to react, he found himself in the air, tumbling to the ground head over heels. He crashed to the ground, utterly winded. The hedge trimmers landed centimetres from his face, their sharp blades puncturing the earth. As he rose to his feet, Kanon noticed a wet sensation on his forehead, and he brought his hand to his face. Blood. The animated ladder must’ve kicked with its hind legs and caught him on the way down.

Beatrice clutched her abdomen and doubled over as she cackled at his misfortune, her facade of dignity entirely shattered. “I pity that fool Kinzo for employing such a klutz all these years! Perhaps Gaap should start stealing your keys out from under your nose next!” She took a moment to compose herself again, and her usual devilish grin spread across her face once more. “This is but a taste of the agony you might experience if you continue to talk back to me in this way, furniture. Pray you do not cross me again!” she exploded into a swarm of butterflies that danced in the sunlight. As they winked out of existence once more, it seemed as if the witch had never been there at all.

* * *

Kanon burst into the servant room in a huff, blood dripping down his forehead. “That horrible witch has cursed me again!” 

Genji and Kumasawa looked up from their conversation abruptly. 

“Your face! Wha-what happened to your face?!” Kumasawa wailed. “I- let me take care of you!” Kumasawa grabbed a clump of napkins and ran them under a faucet.

“Kanon, please be more careful when you’re working,” Genji’s face remained eternally stoic. “You could seriously injure yourself.”

“I told you, this was Beatrice’s doing!” Kanon insisted. He took a seat at the table. “I’m not  _ that _ clumsy.”

“Of course, of course,” Kumasawa pulled her seat around next to Kanon’s and gently dabbed his wound clean. 

“I should get back to work,” Genji excused himself. “Gohda may need help serving lunch.”

The other two servants nodded to him as he left.

“Now, tell me everything,” Kumasawa prompted, “How has that witch hurt you?” she placed the bloody clump of napkins in the trash and rummaged through a cabinet for the first aid kit.

“Where do I even start,” Kanon moaned.

Kumasawa pulled a bottle of antiseptic out of the kit. “Well, how did she bloody your face?”

Kanon sighed. “She enchanted the ladder while I was on it, and it threw me off.”

“I see,” Kumasawa held a swab up near Kanon’s forehead. The sharp, clean odor filled Kanon’s nostrils. “This is going to sting.”

“Ouch!”

“You know, I hear that if you wash out a cut with mackerel juice, it won’t hurt a bit. I don’t know if it would stop infections though,” Kumasawa chuckled to herself. 

Kanon scrunched up his face but didn’t say anything.

“What else?” Kumasawa asked. “I can tell there’s a lot on your mind.”

“Beatrice is holding Shannon hostage.” Kanon explained matter-of-factly.

“Now why would she do a thing like that?” Kumasawa mused. “I’ll admit, I was wondering why I hadn’t seen her in a while. Come to think of it, Madame Natsuhi hasn’t complained about the windows getting unlocked either. I suppose they’re both quite busy, hmm?”

“She’s very sick.” Kanon winced as Kumasawa dabbed his face again. “Beatrice has been furious with me ever since I turned down Milady after the culture festival, and she cursed Shannon as punishment.”

“Hmm, I see,” Kumasawa appeared to realize what he was getting at. “You know, I remember a few years ago Shannon was having trouble with Beatrice stealing her keys, and-”

“That was Gaap,” Kanon corrected.

“Right, yes,” Kumasawa retrieved a pad of gauze and a bandage from the first aid kit. “When Gap was troubling her, I let her in on some magic techniques that help protect her. Perhaps it’s time to teach her some more magic so she can ward off this curse once again.”

Kanon’s eyes lit up. “I- I think she would like that very much!” 

Kumasawa smiled knowingly. “Can I count on you to fill her in when you see her again?”

Kanon nodded eagerly. Shannon often reminisced about that time when they were alone. The Webbed Key Technique had even kept him safe more than a few times. 

“I can tell this sickness plaguing Shannon isn’t just physical,” Kumasawa’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone, “but afflicting her spirit as well!”

Kanon nodded attentively.

“Can you hold your hair out of the way?” She placed the gauze over the scrape and started wrapping the bandage. “Those kinds of deep curses can be difficult to fight off. Sometimes they haunt a person their whole life,” she warned, “but there’s a few tricks that can help manage it. The witch is burned by spiderwebs, so Shannon must construct one in her spirit to ward her off.”

“How can she do that?” Kanon inquired.

Kumasawa thought for a moment. “Imagine there are two trees inside you. One represents your body. The other represents your mind. She must nurture both trees so they become strong enough to support a web between them. The easier of the two is the body. Make sure she’s eating well -that’s three meals a day, of course- and that she gets plenty of sleep. You’d be surprised at how many curses can be driven back with just that much!” She tittered. 

“Next is the mind.” Kumasawa continued wrapping the bandage around Kanon’s head. “It’s good that she’s taking time off work, but if she’s not using that time to recuperate, then it’ll go to waste. She should make sure to do things she finds relaxing and not stew in her anxiety like a fermenting mackerel. There must be some mystery novel she hasn’t read yet you could find for her. Or she could do some more writing! She’s really very good at it. Just as long as it doesn’t keep her up too late,” She winked.

Kanon blushed and averted his eyes, then remembered himself and put on his usual grimace. 

“Once those trees are good and strong, she can start building her web between them and playing them off each other. Taking walks is a good way to get some exercise while clearing your head. Meditation is great for this as well- even just breathing deeply can help fortify your web. Some pastimes like fishing can help in similar ways too. Of course, she’s always welcome to join me for Tai-Chi in the mornings, but I know she feels self-conscious sometimes. And above all else, make sure she’s kind to herself. Nothing can tear a good web apart faster than self-hatred.”

“I’ll tell her all this immediately,” Kanon promised. He felt like he could banish Beatrice for good then and there if she showed her face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Kumasawa tied off the bandage. “You should be right as rain. But maybe you should take the afternoon off so you don’t frighten Madame Natsuhi,” she giggled. 

* * *

“Building a spiderweb, huh?” I mused. I slouched down in the tub so the water lapped at my chin. The mist coming off the warm water collected into beads on my face. The scrape on my forehead almost didn’t hurt if I busied myself thinking of something else. The way Kumasawa had put it made it sound simple enough. Eat well. Sleep enough. Get some exercise. Do something fun. She’d been right that it can be hard to balance reading or writing with getting sleep- it wouldn’t do if Kanon was exhausted come tomorrow morning after I stayed up late. I’d have to use the Ritual of Finite Time to set a limit on myself.

The part that gave me poise was the last thing she said, about being kind to myself. Shannon and Kanon loved each other, of course. It’s true that Kanon could be a little mean to Shannon sometimes though. Maybe Shannon would get better faster if he was just stern rather than accusatory. I should make a note of that for the next arc.

...But that wasn’t  _ really _ the problem, was it? I sighed and looked down at the problem spreading out before me just beneath the water’s surface. It’s easy to be kind to Shannon. She’s sweet, and responsible, and a bit ditzy in an endearing way. But unless I, the actor on the stage, can see myself that way, it’s impossible for her to so much as get out of bed. A knot started to form in my stomach just thinking about it. 

How could I be expected to be kind to this?! This counterfeit body with an off-brand soul shut up inside it, this sieve-like mind that can’t hold onto anything unless I construct a Rube Goldberg machine of tricks and reminders to keep myself on track, that can’t concentrate on anything without drifting into fantasy, this scheming heart that can only think of the rush of being loved without a care for the consequences? It’s useless! It’s all useless! I held my face in my hands and sobbed, my tears mixing with the bathwater. 

“Who said it would be easy?” A whirlwind of golden butterflies deposited Virgilia’s elegant form at the edge of the tub. “The self can be a difficult thing to love sometimes. After all, nobody is more aware of your own shortcomings than yourself.”

“E-Exactly!” I stammered, “If anyone else knew what I was doing, what kind of person I am, they’d judge me the same way!”

“To the contrary,” Virgilia proclaimed, “Genji and Kumasawa know everything, but it doesn’t taint their impressions of you. To them, you’re a lost child with an active imagination and a good heart, trying her best to cope with horrible circumstances. They know you and believe you’re worthy of kindness.” 

I sunk lower into the tub and exhaled a cloud of bubbles instead of responding.  _ It’s easy for them to ignore my flaws, _ I thought, _ after all, they hardly ever have to deal with the “real” me. And besides, the only reason they care is because they feel indebted to my mother. _

Virgilia seemed to get the message, and put her hand over her mouth in thought for a moment. “How about this- I think you might actually have a leg up on most people when it comes to being kind to yourself.”

“How’s that work?” I scoffed.

“Well, you have your personas and illusions as a model, right? Shannon and Kanon are both flawed and troubled characters, and it’s clear how your own difficulties can be expressed through them. However, you still have a soft spot for them. You’re able to forgive Shannon when she inherits your forgetfulness, and the same goes for when Kanon inherits your frustration and self-effacement. There must be some way to connect your patience with those two and the parts of Mistress Sayo that they’re expressing.” She snapped her fingers. “For instance, Beatrice usually gets along with Shannon, right?”

* * *

The beeping of Shannon’s alarm clock signaled the completion of the Ritual of Finite Time. She promptly shut it off, marked her place in the novel she’d been reading and set it on her night table, and turned out the lights. Kanon’s advice seemed to be helping already. He’d snuck her some of Gohda’s leftovers for dinner- a simple yet sophisticated take on Mediterranian cuisine, she’d taken a long, refreshing soak in the tub, and relaxed in bed to complete the evening. She almost felt fit enough to start working again. All that was left was going to bed at a reasonable hour.

As her eyelids began to feel heavy, a golden butterfly materialized and flitted about the room, before landing on her nose. 

“Look at you, thwarting my nigh-invincible curse like it was nothing,” Beatrice complained, “I shouldn’t have underestimated you so.”

“It’s late, Beato,” Shannon protested as she closed her eyes, “I need to sleep.”

“Very well, we shall continue this contest tomorrow morn,” Beatrice assured her. The butterfly beat its wings and the tiny gust of wind tickled Shannon’s face. “You’re always full of surprises, human. It seems I can’t pull anything over on you these days. I can hardly believe that this resilient young woman is the same girl who bawled until her eyes shriveled up into little raisins when Gaap stole her things. Now with your rituals you’ve managed to protect yourself from all manner of mischief.”

“Well,” Shannon yawned, “sometimes people surprise you.”

“Indeed.” Beatrice’s voice came from somewhere up in the rafters as the gold butterfly circled the room. “It must’ve been my error in elevating you from mere furniture. You bear your burdens as a human with much more tenacity than anyone could have expected.” 

Shannon blushed. “Um, I- I don’t know about that.”

“I mean it,” Beatrice insisted, “Not just anyone could live through the hellish circumstances you’ve found yourself in. You should be proud to have emerged with the strength you possess. You make a formidable opponent, Shannon.”

“...Thanks.” Shannon turned over onto her stomach and hugged her pillow tightly.

“We should have tea on the beach again when you are well. I dearly miss our little journey across the globe,” Beatrice landed on the bedpost within Shannon’s view. 

“We should,” Shannon grinned.

“Good. Then I shall expect you soon.” The butterfly sparked and dematerialized as easily as it had appeared.

Shannon hugged her pillow tighter. The witch’s words left a tiny ember of warmth in her core. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she felt as though she’d be unassailable if she managed to fan it into a proper fire. As she drifted off to sleep, she turned the exchange over in her head again and again, and by the time Beatrice had returned to the Golden Land, Shannon had begun to feel a little bit better about herself.

...But deep down, I knew this was going to be a winding and tumultuous road.


End file.
